The key to understanding Conan O’Brien’s comedy is knowing that it comes from a point of kindness. Yes, I know in this age of comics punching down this kind of compliment may leave you with a neon “Must Avoid!” sign flashing in your bleary eyes — but stay with me.

Here is an example. Early in the first episode of his new, four-episode Max travel show “Conan O’Brien Must Go,” Conan — who has earned the right to be referred to by his first name. See: Carson, Johnny — travels to Oslo, Norway. There, he pops in on Jarle, a Norwegian waif of a rapper that Conan had originally met on a segment of his “Conan O’Brien Needs a Friend” podcast. In the podcast video, Jarle’s hair was combed and he seemed coherent. Then Conan surprises him. Jarle comes to the door, and he’s maybe 110 pounds in a long sleeve T-shirt, jogging pants, and Crocs. He is either on a Captain Crunch jag or house arrest. Conan goes upstairs and surveys Jarle’s apartment. There’s a single spoon and a single bowl. Jarle’s cereal has coagulated into a mass that Conan seeks to pierce with a week old piece of bread turned to stone. In a drawer, antennas are growing out of Jarle’s potatoes. At this point, many comedians would have given up perhaps abandoning Jarle for better comedy, but Conan needles and cajoles him just enough to roust his spirits. He then deftly launches an effort to have one of Jarle’s songs played on Oslo radio. I won’t spoil what happens next, but suffice to say that the youth of Norway are left with some very long WTF looks on their Nordic faces.

That kind of comedic humanity has always been present from Conan’s early days writing for “The Simpsons.” He has cut breaks to everyone from Homer “I call this big one Bitey” Simpson to “Melrose Place’s” Courtney Thorne-Smith. OK, Thorne-Smith was a bit of a cheat. Conan had her on his show and allowed Norm MacDonald to sit in on the segment and he well — verbally incinerated her to the point that it’s surprising Norm wasn’t brought up on charges at the Hague. Conan was alternately aghast and mesmerized by Norm’s rough play. (O’Brien has also allowed longtime friend Robert Smigel’s Triumph the Insult Comic Dog to do his dirty work many times.) The fact that Conan was (usually) operating from a position of decency made these comedy kill shots all the more delightful.

Conan’s three-decade run as a talk show host ended in 2021 under less-than-optimal circumstances as he wound down his TBS show during the pandemic year. He talked to longtime sidekick Andy Richter who sat among dozens of cardboard cutout fans. O’Brien quipped that they were last in line for the vaccine because the CDC had looked at the shows and “they said ours is the least essential of pretty much all the non-essential shows.”

There was some truth in that, but Conan had already started his move to other outlets starting with his “Conan O’Brien Needs a Friend” podcast in 2018.

The podcast is funny and sweet, especially the pre-interview segments with longtime associate Sona Movsesian and producer Mark Gourley. Conan mocks Sona’s legendarily bad work habits. and Gourley’s flea market predilections, but any kind of comedic acid is reserved for the self-lacerating O’Brien. (On a recent episode, Conan runs down his own looks, and it is cruel and hilarious, but part of me is thinking, “Dude, cut yourself a break.”). The only time things get contentious is when Conan visited by longtime friend Kevin Nealon — perhaps the podcast’s best episodes.

The podcast had an offshoot called “Conan O’Brien Needs a Fan,” on which O’Brien would talk to a fan, often in a faraway land. That led to O’Brien traveling to Norway, Thailand, Ireland and Argentina to meet them. Why? Well, a dour and ominous narrator, aka Werner Herzog, offered this rationale at the beginning of each episode: “Once a proud talk show host, he’s been driven by a changing ecosystem to a drier and harsher climate: the weekly podcast. Here without the nourishment of his studio audience, this clown with dull tiny eyes, the eye of a crudely painted doll is forced to feed on that meagerest of morsels: the random call-in fan. Unhinged by the feral scent of their mild enthusiasm. He scavenges in distant lands uninvited, fueled by a bottomless hunger for recognition and the occasional selfie.”

It’s a self-deprecating bit, but it’s also the truth. Conan has been doing travel shows for years, most notably one to Movsesian’s native Armenia as well as a chaotic trip to Finland where O’Brien is treated as a god because of his physical resemblance to the Finnish president who happens to be a woman. He clearly loves the journey. And he loves the comedy set piece–see his — which has always been an essential part of his appeal.

“Conan O’Brien Must Go” allows him to do both. On each almost40-minute episode, O’Brien meets with a couple of fans and ingratiates himself into their lives. In Thailand, Conan drops in on Anna whose podcast call was marred by her mom screaming at her while she was talking to O’Brien.  In person, Conan tries to convince her mom that yelling at her daughter while she is on a work Zoom is helping no one. This only animates Mom who proceeds to slap and pinch Conan while he talks and lifts weights. In Argentina, he hangs out with thirtyish Cammy, who confides to him that she likes older men. She finds O’Brien creepy at 60, but admits her secret crush is 76-year-old Larry David. This confession sends O’Brien into paroxysms of rage, and ends with a surreal conclusion that is pretty, pretty good.

The encounters work because O’Brien doesn’t treat his new friends as fools — rather he revels in the fact that he is the fool. (See his instant-classic appearance on “Hot Ones,” the show where interviews are conducted while the celebrity consumes increasingly acidic chicken wings. Conan rhapsodizes on comedy being all around us as green-yellow mucus drips down his nose.) Of course, there are exceptions made for old friends. Conan goes out for asada in Buenos Aires with the effete and erudite Jordan Schlansky, a longtime producer and frenemy. Schlansky and Conan are the Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon of American cable and on his TBS show and podcast the two have tangled over Japanese customs, Conan hosting Schlansky’s bachelor party in his own office, and Schlansky hiding an expensive Espresso machine in an inaccessible part of their offices. (As with the Courtney Thorne-Smith segment, Conan’s visceral malice toward Schlansky works because it is so out-of-character).

During the Argentina episode, they get into a fierce argument about the proper pronunciation of the word “tango,” Conan then licks Schlansky’s favorite cut of meat — wait, that came out wrong. After, they go on an ill-fated trip to the Pampas, where both fail spectacularly at gaucho life.

Not everything works. O’Brien does a self-referential bit about the expensive drone he is using on the first show and for the next four episodes I am distracted every time I see a beautiful shot thinking about the drone’s specifications and capabilities. Some of the stuff goes on a bit long, but so does my writing.

These are minor quibbles. If you’re a Conan fan, you’ll treasure the trips, just like his completists treasure encounters with a masturbating bear. The series ends with Conan tracing his family’s roots in Ireland. He comes across his ancestor’s land, makes a few jokes, but then looks at the land, clearly moved. Conan O’Brien has played the fool long enough; we grant him this moment of humanity with all our hearts.

All four episodes of “Conan O’Brien Must Go” are now available on Max.